


to repaint, and repaint, and repaint, every day

by LailaLiquorice



Series: there's a starman waiting in the sky (she'd like to come and meet us but she thinks she'll blow our minds) [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Episode: s11e08 The Witchfinders, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, One-Shot, Team TARDIS, Team as Family, all the family feels at the end, impromptu thamin sleepover, some good Thasmin pining, thirteen is so soft, yaz loves her a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-01 19:03:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16771018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LailaLiquorice/pseuds/LailaLiquorice
Summary: It's only later that the Doctor discovers not even she is immune to the cold.-aka the author is fully making up for the lack of soft thasmin at the end of this episode.





	to repaint, and repaint, and repaint, every day

They didn’t stay together in the console room for long once they were safely in the time vortex after leaving the 17th Century. Graham had, as always, been the first to point out that humans did need to sleep on a regular basis, but since none of them had slept at all in the last day and a half excepting when they were unconscious the Doctor couldn’t blame him for once. He’d excused himself to his bedroom first though Ryan and Yaz hadn’t been far behind, Yaz casting a final glance back down the corridor before she followed Ryan down the corridor towards their rooms.

Once alone, the Doctor braced one hand against the console and let out a rough sigh. She didn’t sleep often compared to her human friends but today she was exhausted.

No, she realised as she shivered violently, she was freezing.

Two dips in an English lake on a chilly winter’s day was a lot even for her, and she hadn’t had the luxury of Becka’s fireplace to huddle in front of the second time around. While her hair was mostly dry her clothes still felt damp with the exception of her coat, which she attempted to pull around herself with her other hand though it did little to make her any warmer. It felt like ice had crept into her very core.

Her legs suddenly felt very wobbly, the hand on the console twisting as she clumsily lowered herself to the ground. The TARDIS made a sympathetic-sounding whir as she slumped against the console, pulling one knee up towards her chest and wrapping her arms around her torso in an effort to make herself as small as possible. Smaller surface area meant better conservation of heat, she recalled vaguely. Most of her thoughts seemed vague at that moment; the ‘hangover’ from the Morax attack was still pulsing at the base of her skull, all the louder now that she didn’t have her friends around to distract her.

She must have been drifting in and out of sleep, because one moment she was staring at the opposite wall and then suddenly there was Yaz’s face in her vision and her hands shaking her shoulders.

“Doctor? Doctor, what happened?” she was asking, her voice urgent as the Doctor lifted her head from where it had fallen onto her chest. “What’s the matter, are you alright?”

The Doctor hummed blearily, a confused furrow appearing between her brows as she looked around. “Don’t know,” she mumbled without really thinking about it first, then shook her head as Yaz’s look of concern deepened. “Felt cold so I sat down. ‘m fine though,” she added, making the effort to uncurl herself slightly to prove that point. Her limbs seemed to be far too slow in obeying her.

“You don’t seem very fine,” Yaz pointed out, taking the Doctor’s hand from where it had fallen to her side and instantly recoiling with a gasp. “Doctor, you’re freezing! Have you warmed up at all since they threw you in that lake?” she asked, picking the Doctor’s hands back up and cradling them in her own.

The feeling of warmth on her blueing fingers was so nice that she couldn’t muster up a response for a moment. When she realised Yaz was still eyeing her intently she just shook her head, too tired and too glad of the heat Yaz’s hands were providing to make any more hollow protests. Instead she just asked “Why’re you awake? Thought you went to bed.”

Yaz shook her head. “I couldn’t sleep, felt too restless. That was hours ago though, have you been sat here since we all went off?”

She had fallen asleep then, if that was the case. The Doctor gave a non-committal shrug.

Clearly interpreting the gesture as a yes, Yaz sighed with an exasperated smile. “You should get some sleep in a proper bed, you’ll be warmer there.”

The Doctor shook her head, wincing slightly when the movement worsened the ache behind her eyes. “Got stuff to do. Just need to warm up a bit first,” she said, hunching her shoulders as another shiver passed through her.

“Nope, I’m not having that,” Yaz declared in a tone that invited no argument. “You’re going to bed and that’s final.” The Doctor lifted her head to watch as Yaz rose to her feet, giving her hands an incessant tug for her to stand up too. “C’mon, up you get.”

She smiled faintly at Yaz’s insistence before pulling one hand from Yaz’s grip to cling onto the edge of the console. Slowly, unsteadily, she managed to lever herself upwards until she was stood hunched over the controls, gripping the edge with trembling hands. Now off the ground and away from the shelter of the console she noticed how much she was shaking, feeling horribly vulnerable until Yaz wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

“Come on, I’ve got you,” Yaz repeated much more softly.

The Doctor nodded, too cold to shrug off the warmth that Yaz’s close presence was providing. Her head spun as she took a shaky step forwards, stumbling light-headedly into Yaz who only tightened her hold around the Doctor’s shoulders. The Doctor couldn’t resist curling into her warmth, pulling her coat tighter around herself and burying her head in Yaz’s collar.

Together they walked down the corridor from the console room and into what the Doctor had to assume was Yaz’s bedroom. Just beyond the doorway Yaz withdrew her arm and gave the Doctor a gentle push towards the wardrobe, saying as she did so “Pyjamas are in the bottom drawer. Find something warm to wear and I’ll make us some tea, alright?”

The Doctor turned back towards Yaz with a nod and a weak grin. “Tea in Yaz’s room? Amazin’.”

* * *

When Yaz returned with mugs of tea in hand, it was to see the Doctor sat cross-legged in the center of her bed wearing Yaz’s fuzziest pyjamas which she’d brought when the flat’s central heating had broken one winter. She still had her coat draped over her shoulders, arms wrapped tightly around herself as she shivered violently, though still looked up when Yaz sat on the edge of the bed.

“Hey,” she greeted her, placing both mugs on her bedside table. “How’re you feeling?”

After seeming to consider for a moment, the Doctor shrugged half-heartedly. “Cold,” she said, the word broken up by her chattering teeth.

“Do you want some tea?”

The Doctor brightened marginally at that. “Ooh, yes please. Forgot you were gettin’ tea.”

Not wanting her to spill any of it on herself or the bed, Yaz gave her the less full mug which she took in shaking hands. The Doctor gave a contented hum as she held the mug in her hand, bringing an amused smile to Yaz’s lips as she took a sip of her own tea. While she always enjoyed sitting with the Doctor in the console room – not necessarily talking to her, just being in her presence – there was something about sitting on the bed with her like school friends on a sleepover that made her chest feel oddly light.

The nagging voice in her subconscious tried to point her towards the probable reason for that feeling. Yaz was determined to ignore that voice for the time being.

Putting her mug back on the bedside table, Yaz looked back over at the Doctor to see that she was just using her mug as a hand-warmer rather than a warm drink. “I can get you a hot water bottle if you’d prefer?” she offered, breaking the comfortable silence.

The Doctor looked tempted for a moment before shaking her head. “I’ve put you through enough trouble already. Thanks though.”

The answer wasn’t surprising; just like in the aftermath of their stint on Tsuranga, the Doctor could never bear the idea of putting her own wellbeing above that of the rest of them. Maybe it was admirable to a certain extent, but it was concerning to a greater one. Yaz was reminded of something her mentor in the police force had said to her back at the start of her own field training when she would throw herself headfirst into any situation, that the best officers aren’t too proud to let their teammates help them at their worst. The Doctor was fairer and kinder than any of the officers she’d worked with in the last year but she was still yet to learn that she didn’t need to be the strong all the time. That sometimes she had to let Yaz and Ryan and Graham look after her.

She wasn’t about to dive down that rabbit hole of a conversation though, not when the Doctor’s lips were still tinged with blue as she cradled her mug like a lifeline. Yaz’s heart ached at the sight of her. “At least get under the covers then?” she said instead, throwing back the duvet to crawl under herself.

“Am I staying then?” the Doctor asked, looking at her with a comically tilted head.

“Not if you don’t want to,” Yaz said quickly, her heart beating loudly in her ears as she wondered briefly if she’d overstepped. When the Doctor didn’t respond immediately she managed to add “I just thought it might be nice. And I can make sure you actually sleep and don’t sneak back to the console room.”

The Doctor scrunched her face at that, but then her expression softened into one of tired contentedness. With her mug held carefully aloft she shuffled towards Yaz, who found it hard not to giggle at how her tongue stuck out slightly in an adorable display of concentration. Once there she attempted to reach over Yaz’s lap to put her mug on the bedside table until Yaz took it from her, though rather than shift back to her own side of the bed she latched onto Yaz’s arm instead.

“Are you staying there?” Yaz echoed the Doctor’s earlier question, her voice tinged with amusement though her heart fluttered at the touch.

She received no verbal answer, just a hum of agreement from the Doctor as she wriggled further below the covers that Yaz had pulled over them. “Alright, just let me get comfy,” she said, trying not to jostle the Doctor too much as she moved to lie down properly.

The TARDIS took it upon herself to turn the lights off, which Yaz acknowledged with a whispered “Thank you,” to the ceiling. In the darkness she could still feel the Doctor’s shivering against her side so she used her free hand to pull the duvet up tighter around them, hoping that might be enough to warm her up at last. Having a sleepover with a Time Lord wasn’t how she’d expected to end her evening after heading off to bed hours ago but she certainly wasn’t going to complain.

“G’night Doctor,” she whispered. Her only response was a soft snore which brought a smile to her face.

* * *

The Doctor woke with a jolt.

Her vision was hazy as she looked around the unfamiliar room, letting out a sharp breath as she scrabbled to sit up and her head protested in agony. She was sprawled out on the opposite side of the bed she’d started on, her pillow nowhere to be seen and the duvet tangled around her legs. Not only was her headache infinitely worse but she was swelteringly hot compared to the chills of the previous day. The muggy heat in the room was almost unbearable.

She had to get somewhere cooler. Her chest felt oddly tight and she needed more oxygen.

Trying to stand was a challenge given that her knees buckled the moment she was on her feet. But somehow she managed to make it to the ensuite after stumbling around in the dark for a good minute, finding the light switch before all but collapsing over the sink. She was aching all over, her limbs feeling like candyfloss as she struggled to hold herself upright, desperately wanting to just curl back up on the floor and not move for hours.

At least the air didn’t feel so suffocating anymore. But her chest was still painful and she couldn’t breathe through her nose; her attempt to take a deep breath ended in a coughing fit that made her eyes water as her throat suddenly constricted. Every jerking movement made her head throb behind her eyes, and when it was over she couldn’t resist cradling her head in her hands and letting out a miserable groan.

A hand on her shoulder interrupted her despair. “What’s the matter? I woke up to hear you makin’ a right racket,” Yaz said from somewhere above her. Her tone was light, but when the Doctor didn’t move from her hunched over position she began to sound a lot more worried. “Doctor? You alright?”

Already the Doctor felt guilty that she’d managed to wake her up. “Sorry,” she croaked out, her voice raspy as she tried to speak through her raw throat.

“Don’t be sorry,” Yaz interrupted immediately, her expression softening with pity as the Doctor lifted her head from her hands to look up at her. “Oh you poor thing, you look awful!”

The Doctor gave a questioning hum, turning her head slowly to look in the mirror over the sink. It wasn’t hard to see that Yaz had a point; her cheeks were flushed, her nose was red, and she looked about to pass out. As much as she hated to admit it, she looked ill.

“Come on,” Yaz said, her voice pulling the Doctor back into the present. “Let’s get you back into bed.”

Nodding ever so slightly as to not make her headache worse, the Doctor let Yaz guide her back into the bedroom which was lit dimly by the bedside lamp. Halfway there she was stopped by another round of wracking coughs which threatened to bring her to her knees. Even while her vision blurred she could sense Yaz’s presence just beside her though, keeping her grounded by rubbing comforting circles into her back as she fought to regain her breath.

Stars, she felt terrible.

As soon as she was sat on the bed and her weight was off her feet she sagged, the journey having sapped the very last of her energy reserves. She fell ungracefully against the pillow with barely a groan, limbs feeling like lead as she sunk into the mattress and her eyes closing momentarily until she felt the bed dip next to her. Yaz’s hand lay gently across her forehead, and her palm was cool against the feverish heat that was starting to make her shiver again.

“You’re burning up,” Yaz said quietly, brushing away the sweat-slicked hair that clung to her clammy skin. “You must have picked something up from that lake water. That and being in wet clothes for goodness knows how long.”

Normally the Doctor would have protested by that point, or at least complained that her superior biology compared to her ‘mooman bean’ friends – she mentally thanked Angstrom regularly for providing her with that term – should mean she didn’t get their illnesses. But after a minute or two of silence except for her ragged breathing, she cracked open her eyes again. “Yaz?” she asked.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t feel well.”

The simple confession seemed to make her feel ten times as worse, as she finally gave way to the pain and exhaustion she’d been resisting for hours. Yaz’s hand squeezed her arm momentarily before she seemed to vanish, whatever explanation she’d provided getting lost in the Doctor’s clouded mind.

The cool flannel placed on her head a minute later was blissfully welcome and she managed to smile slightly with exhausted relief. “There’s tissues here if you need them,” Yaz said, laying down next to her as she added “And I’m here too, so if you wake up feeling bad again you can just wake me up. I won’t mind, I promise. You don’t need to go crashin’ about into the bathroom again.”

“Thanks Yaz,” the Doctor whispered, her voice barely audible as she felt herself starting to slip from consciousness. But the sudden darkness as the lamp was switched off had her eyes shooting open again, reaching out blindly to grab Yaz’s wrist in feverish panic. “Please don’t turn it off,” she pleaded, already starting to feel suffocated by the sheer blackness that surrounded her.

Almost immediately the lamp was switched back on, basking the room in a warm, deep golden glow that was much more soothing than the blinding darkness. Her mouth opened to thank her again, but the words merged into an incomprehensible murmur as exhaustion claimed her at last.

* * *

When Yaz woke the next morning, the first thing she did was roll over to make sure the Doctor hadn’t legged it again. Thankfully she was still sprawled where she’d lain during the middle of the night, her even breathing and peaceful expression a sign she was sleeping soundly though the awkward positions her limbs were in and the ruffled duvet suggested she’d had a fitful night. Lightly touching her pale forehead told Yaz she was still running a fever but it certainly wasn’t as bad as it had been before, so she felt safe enough creeping out of her room and leaving the Doctor to sleep for a while.

For the rest of them, it was a rare day of complete peace and quiet. After she explained to Ryan and Graham over breakfast the events of the previous night they all decided that a self-care day was in order for all of them, and when one of the kitchen cupboard was flung open behind them to show only a very out of date cuppa soup it was agreed that the TARDIS was included in that too.

Graham’s haltering conversation with the ship in the console room was rewarded by the TARDIS landing them safely in 21st Century Sheffield, and Ryan offered to stay behind in case the Doctor woke up while Yaz and Graham did some well needed food shopping. After cleaning out and restocking the kitchen Yaz took the time to run back to her flat quickly, glad that no-one was in as she grabbed a few more clothes and a new book for when she finished her current one. She picked up another pair of warm pyjamas too, sensing that the Doctor had probably grown quite attached to the ones she’d borrowed from her.

They were sat around the kitchen table having just finished dinner when a sneeze from the doorway caught their attention. The Doctor was shuffling into the kitchen wearing Yaz’s fluffy dressing gown with the hood up in addition to her fuzzy pyjamas, still looking weary though her face broke into the biggest smile when she saw her friends.

“Fam!” she exclaimed, her voice bright despite the slight wheeze.

“Evenin’ Doc,” Graham said with a smile, “You feeling any better? Think you gave Yaz quite the scare last night.”

The Doctor scrunched her face at the question, falling into the chair next to Yaz. “Bit better. But I still can’t stop –“ she trailed off there, leaving them in suspense until she sneezed loudly and almost made Ryan jump. “Sorry Ryan. Sneezing! I can’t stop sneezing!”

Yaz and Graham both laughed, with Ryan looking affronted until he joined them a moment later.

“Ooh, did you have food?” the Doctor asked, her gaze darting towards the sink where they’d piled up the dirty crockery. “Can’t smell anything at the mo. Turns out this nose isn’t reliable as I thought it was.”

Graham nodded but Ryan cut across him before he could speak. “That nose was never reliable. You said you had two minutes to go before dropping right in front of us!”

Rolling her eyes, the Doctor coughed briefly before retorting “Oi, I told you I wasn’t quite myself back then!”

Ryan raised his eyebrows, but this time it was Graham who jumped in before the teasing could continue. “Yaz made some veggie pasta, we’ve saved some for you if you want it?”

The Doctor looked as though she was about to agree, then hesitated slightly and pulled a grimacing face. Clearly, despite the return of her usual cheery self, she was still feeling pretty unwell if that and her ashen face were anything to go by.

“Still not feeling up to it?” Yaz asked quietly, placing a hand on the Doctor’s knee without really thinking about it. The Doctor shook her head, looking thoroughly defeated. “How about just some toast then? You should really try to eat something.”

“Toast sounds good. Love a bit of toast. And can I have some water as well?” the Doctor asked, looking around hopefully. There was another sign she still wasn’t recovered; normally she’d have been on her feet in an instant and rushing around the kitchen for her own toast and water.

Graham put down the newspaper from 1893 that he’d been reading to get out of his chair, giving the Doctor a sympathetic smile. “I’ve got it, don’t worry Doc,” he said, getting her water first and looking slightly offended when the first thing she did was sneeze on it. Then he busied about trying to figure out how the toaster now worked since the Doctor had last dismantled it.

There was tense quiet as Yaz, Ryan, and the Doctor turned to watch the bread in the toaster, Graham hovering uncertainly from a couple of feet away as if he expected the whole thing to catch on fire. Which would hardly be surprising from past experiences, Yaz could admit. But to their relief it just popped out two slices of perfectly done toast – perhaps the TARDIS was thanking them for sorting her kitchen out – which Graham buttered and set down in front of the Doctor.

“What’s the plan then?” he asked as he sat back down. The Doctor gave a confused hum as she nibbled on the corner of her toast, and he added “Well it’s not like we can go anywhere while the Doc’s still out of sorts – we’re parked in Sheffield by the way. Seems a shame to just go to bed. I was thinking we could have a bit of a night in, that’s what you young’uns call it these days right?”

Yaz laughed slightly at that, though she agreed with the sentiment. That was what she loved most about Graham, as much as he was as up for an adventure as the rest of them he would always be the one to favour just some time together as a ‘fam’. “Does the TARDIS have Netflix?” she asked.

“Or I’ve got a deck of uno cards in my room?” Ryan suggested.

“Ooh, let’s do cards! I love cards,” the Doctor said through her mouthful, getting crumbs everywhere. “I once played cards with Eleanor Dumont back in the wild west. I lost, obviously, but she was really nice about it. Took her for a spin in the TARDIS to make up for not having money.”

Grinning at her antics, Ryan gave a shrug. “Card it is then,” he said, standing and heading off in the direction of his bedroom.

After a moment the Doctor huffed, taking down her hood and shrugging off Yaz’s dressing gown. “I’m really warm again now,” she grumbled, fighting to get her left arm out the sleeve.

Yaz leaned over to help her, unable to restrain her little smirk at the Doctor’s dishevelled blond hair which looked like it needed a reminder of gravity’s existence. “See, it’s not that hard to let us help you,” she chided gently, thinking back to how the Doctor had tried to shrug off her assistance the previous night until she was too poorly to do anything but accept. “You don’t have to wait until you’re really bad. We’ll always want to help you.”

“Yeah, we will. You help us so much Doc that it’s only right we get to repay the favour sometimes,” Graham added, his words stern but fond in a markedly grandfatherly fashion.

The Doctor looked between then with a pout. Yaz’s heart ached at the sight of her; she didn't think she had ever seen the Doctor with quite such a pitiful expression. With the possible exception of her hospital stay on Resus One, that was, but even then she'd been too busy trying to insist she was fine to let her walls down this much. Maybe she was learning to let them see her struggle after all. 

“Why does the Doctor look like a kicked puppy?” Ryan asked, coming through the door and sitting down with cards in hand.

“Because we’re being real with her,” Graham said, still looking at the Doctor with an understanding smile. Until without warning she sneezed towards Graham and Ryan, with both of them pulling horrified expressions.

There was a beat of silence, until Ryan howled “I’m gonna have to disinfect my cards!”

Immediately they all broke into laughter, with the Doctor looking slightly sheepish. It was a wonderful feeling really, sat round the dinner table and in full hysterics with the people who had made themselves her family. Not that she didn't love her parents and her sister, but there was something special about people choosing to make you their family rather than just being born that way. True happiness had come crashing into her life in the shape of an alien through a train roof and she couldn't be more thankful for it.

While the boys were occupied by dabbing the cards with disinfectant wipes, Yaz turned to the Doctor and hesitantly took her cold hand in hers. “But seriously though,” she said, “You can tell us when you need our help. We won’t judge you for not being ok all the time. You can trust us, yeah?”

The Doctor smiled then, her expression so soft despite her tired eyes. “Yeah,” she repeated, squeezing Yaz’s hand and not letting go.

**Author's Note:**

> I loved this episode, and I loved writing this. I can't resist an excuse for Doctor based hurt/comfort. Maybe I'll make a series of it if the show keeps handing me opportunities to write it. 
> 
> Also, thank you so much to everyone who left kudos and comments on 'touchdown'. It really made my day <3
> 
> Title is taken from Sleeping at Last's 'North' which is honestly the most gorgeous song.
> 
> I'm lailaliquorice on tumblr :)


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